Gemotions

He stared at his reflection in the duty-free shop window. Mark felt a sharp pain in his chest. His best friend’s stag do. He envisioned them all, laughing and celebrating, while he was stranded in this fluorescent-lit purgatory.

He bought a bottle of scotch and walked towards his gate, the bottle a heavy weight in his hand. The endless announcements of delays were like a repeated kick in the gut. He could feel his hands clenching into fists.

He sat down, trying to control his racing thoughts. He imagined the jokes, the camaraderie, the shared memories. He'd been there for all of them; the thought of missing this felt like a betrayal of their bond. He took a swig of the liquor, its burn a small, unwelcome comfort.